


Retrace Your Steps to Find Your Heart.  I Have.

by beedekka



Category: All Elite Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment, 新日本プロレス | New Japan Pro-Wrestling
Genre: Bullet Club Demon, Demons, Drabble Sequence, Dreams, M/M, Supernatural Elements, Trick or Treat: Trick, Triple Drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-01-15 00:10:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21244292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beedekka/pseuds/beedekka
Summary: All these wrestlers going around acting like their Bullet Club days are firmly behind them!  Well, the Bullet Club Demon cordially begs to differ...Three linked triple drabbles.  Title is from Finn Bálor's 'My future will be my past' promo on NXT, 16/10/2019.





	Retrace Your Steps to Find Your Heart.  I Have.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RedLeaderfic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedLeaderfic/gifts).

1.

Adam’s been feeling it all day – a dry heat that catches in the back of his throat and adds an edge to every breath. It hangs in the air like invisible smoke, and if that means what he thinks it means… then things are about to get a whole lot more interesting around here.

He stands with his eyes closed for a moment, listening to the low crackle that’s suddenly discernible underneath the usual droning mess, and when he opens them again Bobby’s staring right at him. Adam can tell he wants to ask what’s up, and also that he won’t, and that’s the absolute confirmation of what this creeping sensation is. _Hello, old… friend_, he tries. _We haven’t been this intimate for a little while._

His greeting isn’t returned, but Adam’s skin prickles with what could be a warning or a tease, and he resists the urge to laugh. It’s like speaking to Regal: you never can tell if he actually likes you, and even if he does, you’re probably still screwed.

Later, in the ring, he steels himself and waits to find out exactly how the future is about to become the past. Finn— no, _Devitt_, smoulders like dark ashes, flanked by Johnny freaking Chump and that madman who couldn’t even begin to know what it’s like to have a black heart. Kyle’s bravado fortifies his own. _Come on and do what you came here for; show your hand!_

Devitt’s shrugging off his jacket and meeting Adam’s gaze so intensely that he almost doesn’t follow what’s happening at first. Then everything’s so fast and smooth that he can’t help but grin in admiration. _Welcome back._

Once more, there’s no direct response, but as he’s laying fists into Ciampa, Adam can distinctly feel the Demon’s fire reigniting inside him.

2.

Damn Moxley and his fixation on destruction. Kenny’s got slivers of glass caught in every little crease of his gear, and his curls glitter with the hidden edges of a hundred tiny shards. Sure, he can rinse them all away, along with the blood and the nasty sheen of adrenalin sweat, but the anger he’s nursing from that stunt in the VIP lounge isn’t going anywhere. It clings to him like barbed wire (and that’s giving him some _bad_ good ideas).

This is a dangerous game. He knows Moxley’s just following his own erratic path, delighting in his new-found freedom and ready to make the most of any opportunity for gold or violence that comes his way, but when it’s at _his_ expense it makes Kenny want to be careless too, and that’s a risk he can’t take. One slip, one weakening to temptation, and that old familiar devil could come to claim his due… and Kenny doesn’t exactly have it here to give.

He has to resist these traps – better than he’s been doing so far! He’s got to remember there’s no such thing as coincidence. That mop and bucket just lying around at ringside? The roar of the crowd when he picked it up? Yeah, if he wanted, he could be all that again: Kenny ‘The Cleaner’ Omega, but at the cost of one very specific pound of flesh.

It’s a price he can’t afford. All he has to do is press his fingers against his wrist to remind himself why; to feel the arrhythmic illusion of his pulse and shudder at the unnatural coldness of the veins. 

His heart is thousands of miles away, buried deep in someone else’s chest, and there is absolutely _no way_ Kenny’s going to let the Demon rip it out of there.

3\. 

Robbie’s dreaming – he has to be… There’s no other explanation for the impossible touch he’s feeling, for the shuttered gaze he’s meeting, for the lack of guilt or alarm in his mind over the fact that when he lay down last night it was with Will’s firm body pressed against him, and now – however many hours later – it’s Phantasmo’s hot and heavy weight pinning his hips to the bed. He’s moving to a perfect rhythm, an urgent grind of soft leather on Robbie’s naked skin, and they’re both so hard that it _can’t_ be real; it feels like they’re a long way into doing this, but a moment ago Robbie wasn’t even aware.

What should he do? The relentless heat pooling in his groin certainly wants to convince him to lie back and go with it, but the thought of just letting this play out now he knows what he’s doing is a little sticky. _Fuck_, if it was anyone else than Phantasmo, Will would probably laugh his ass off and call him a sex pig for dreaming like this, but—

A wave of arousal scatters his thoughts and Robbie feels his breathing hitch, neck arching into the pillow. _Oh, fff—._ If he wants to snap out of this, he needs to do something soon. Phantasmo’s watching him through those shades, and Robbie can see his eyes even though he shouldn’t be able to; they’re bright like fire, and his whole body suffuses with a burning pleasure when he looks into them. He hears himself moan, and if Will’s awake there’s no way he can’t tell what’s happening...

Then, Robbie’s coming, shaking and sure it’s about to wake him up, when Phantasmo’s flaming eyes suddenly flash pure black and he whispers, “I knew you didn’t really want to leave me.”


End file.
